Every day
Every day the same.
Every single solitary day.
Over and over and over again.
The same cardinal visits my window feeder,
the same time each morning.
The same tea in my mug.
The same news on TV.
The same cold wind blows.
The same snow falls,
only the drifts grow deeper.
Every day the same.
Every single solitary day.
Over and over and over again.
Although,
spring is coming,
or so I hear,
or so I wish.
Snow Tired
this apartment is so cold
all of this is growing old
politicians can escape this trap
but we are here and all we can do is nap
listening to old Disney tunes
hoping they will drown out the blues
the snow was fun for a moment or two
but what to do now, I have no clue
no school, no work, no wifi, no water
maybe I'll go read some Harry Potter
But really though, we haven't had classes all week and now we have a water-boil notice. Can't wait till it warms up again. Hope y'all are staying safe out there if ya live in Texas too.
late tears
i don't cry until a week after the funereal.
i'm making tea. boiling the kettle. pouring water. watching the teabag drown and then- hands are shaking. boiling water scalds my skin like an angry ocean. burns. but not as much as the tears on my cheek. not as much as my heart.
i collapse in the corner. like the kitchen counters are the only things holding me togther. perhaps they are. becuase god. i miss you. i miss your very presence. this room feels empty, this house feels empty, fuck, my heart feels empty.
friends and family have been visiting all week. offering condolances and cards and soup. why does anyone think soup can fix a broken soul?
i tip all the soup down the sink. and place the cards in a black bag on the street. there are other black bags in the hallway; full of the possesions that seemed so megure before you left. i can't throw them out.
sometimes i go and sit in the hall and bury my head in the contents of those bags. they still smell like you. i can alomost pretend you are still here- till i feel the tears on my cheeks.
